


Can't Kick The Habit

by catsonfire



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AND IT'S CONSENSUAL, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Comeplay, Lapdance, M/M, Oneshot, PWP, Strip Tease, Stripper!Armin, armin in booty shorts, blowjob, i feel like that needs its own tag, i swear to god it's not underaged, mild frotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsonfire/pseuds/catsonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You ready to start?” Armin asked after a soft peck on Erwin’s lips. After a nod, he rose slowly and held out his hand to Erwin. The older man stood and let Armin lead him over to the solitary cushion chair against the wall. “I have a different song for you today.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Kick The Habit

**Author's Note:**

> alternative title: baby's first pwp 
> 
> i mentioned a similar au like ten billion years ago but last night, while talking about [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=870cSxoRVK8) in particular, shit just happened.  
> would also like to blame this fic on [practice by drake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qjf5VFGshVk) yup yup  
> i hope those links don't give you ANY idea of my music taste

“He’s been waiting for you for fifteen minutes. You took your sweet ass time.”

Armin stumbled over his own bare feet as a hand roughly pushed him towards a private room door, knees knocking and hands reaching out to brace him against the steel he nearly collided with. He spun to face his manager and the woman glowered down at him, eyes narrowed.

“I was getting fixed up, you know how it is,” he murmured, shrugging and feigning a small smile. Maybe he’d spent a little too long brushing his hair, making sure it was as soft as the man liked. Maybe he’d spent too long on his mascara, which was the only real makeup he bothered to put on aside from lip gloss (his lashes were far too light to be seen properly by the naked eye—all he really did was put on a little to make them stand out). Maybe he had dazed off and started daydreaming. “It’s Smith, right? He likes me pretty.”

“Let’s hope he still likes you after waiting for _fifteen minutes_ ,” she snapped, grabbing his shoulder and turning him towards the door once again. “Get your perky little ass in there and make him happy.”

Armin fought the urge to retort or stick his tongue out at the woman, gripping the handle of the door instead (it wasn’t smart—she’d probably dock his pay, or start turning down the customers that requested him) and twisting. He pushed the heavy, polished door open, took a step and turned with an unnecessary swing to his hips, before he pulled the door shut behind him. When he turned to face the room’s only other occupant, his heart fluttered and his breath stuttered, excitement bursting through his veins.

Erwin Smith was his highest paying customer. He was tall, almost a solid foot taller than Armin, himself, sleek, smooth, absolutely beautiful. With his perfectly styled blonde hair and cheekbones that any drag queen Armin knew would kill for, the best way to describe him was the physical embodiment of grace (at least until he got drunk or _really_ comfortable around someone, and maybe Armin thought that his more personal side was a lot more attractive than his domineering façade, maybe he didn’t, who really knew). With him seated in the booth behind the round table in the center of the private room, he could almost be intimidating, could easily send shivers down Armin’s spine with one look or one gesture or one goddamn smile.

And there it was—that goddamn smile.

“Armin,” Erwin breathed as Armin stepped over to him (and the boy still took extra care to swing his hips, watching the way Erwin watched his mostly bare legs as he walked, move with enough fluidity to let his hair sway and flow with every step). The glass in front of him was nearly empty, signaling just how long he’d been waiting, and Armin swallowed down the guilt as he seated himself in the older man’s lap, arms winding around his shoulders. He smelled of expensive champagne and expensive cologne when Armin leaned in to press a light lip gloss kiss to his jaw. “I thought maybe you’d run away when you heard I was here for you.”

Armin grinned where he’d usually just giggle and play with the man’s hair to rile him up. Barriers he used with other customers weren’t necessary with Erwin—not anymore.

“When, in reality, you know I rushed off to my dressing room to look nice for you,” Armin whispered, lips trailing up to Erwin’s ear to tease at the lobe, press a kiss to the shell of it. Erwin’s hand laid onto his thigh, praising the exposed soft, milky skin. The last time Armin had worn shorts like the ones he had on then, Erwin had mentioned how much he loved his legs. “I hope you like the shorts I picked out this time, too.”

“You always look nice,” Erwin hummed and Armin leaned back to admire the shine of his lip gloss on Erwin’s beautiful complexion. His hand found Erwin’s cheek and he gently turned the older man’s head to look at him. “You’re gorgeous no matter what.”

Armin’s smile was genuine as his thumb stroked Erwin’s cheek. The skin was slightly rough, evidence of a long day at work, no time to stop off at his place to shave before showing up.

The boy leaned forward, lips pressing to Erwin’s and eyes fluttering shut. Their mouths molded together, tongue meeting tongue, meeting lips, meeting teeth. Erwin sighed into his mouth, tasting strongly of the champagne he bought nearly every time he came to see Armin. It was a taste that might have turned Armin off at once, disgusted him even, but he welcomed it on Erwin’s skilled tongue. He welcomed the light taste of clove cigarettes, the faint hints of spearmint gum, the vague scent of ink on Erwin’s clothes from work documents. He even welcomed the hand sliding around to grope his ass, the fingers that wormed their way under the fabric of his shorts. Touching was, generally speaking, the biggest rule-breaker in the book. He only allowed Erwin to get away with it.

Armin pulled away with a soft gasp for air, eyes half-opened with a dazed little smile on his lips. He panted softly, watching Erwin as his opened to meet Armin’s, pupils blown, lids drooping, and maybe he even had a little bit of pinkness to his cheeks if Armin looked close enough.

“You ready to start?” Armin asked after a soft peck on Erwin’s lips. After a nod, he rose slowly and held out his hand to Erwin. The older man stood and let Armin lead him over to the solitary cushion chair against the wall. “I have a different song for you today.”

Deliberately, he took his sweet, sweet time walking across to the opposite side of the room, bending over the table with the stereo system, back arching, hips jutting out more than necessary. He dawdled a little, allowing Erwin the silence to enjoy the view as he toyed with the buttons and the dials, before he finally settled on the settings he wanted and turned to face Erwin once again.

The beat was heavy and abrupt and Armin likely would’ve jumped if he hadn’t been prepared.

Erwin didn’t bat an eyelash, despite the beat’s speed. It was faster than most songs that Armin chose for his dances, a little louder and harsher, but Armin knew exactly how to work a song like this. He knew how to make Erwin want him.

He started with a sway, like with most songs. He worked himself in with the beat, hands finding his own hips, covered by his thin tank-top, as they swiveled a little, Armin’s eyes trained on Erwin all the while. He felt himself smile, fingers teasing the edges of his top as he slowly worked his way closer to the man in the chair. He let a few digits slide under the waistband of his shorts, hips still swaying, and when the beat dropped, he slunk down into a crouch.

Armin’s fingers slipped out from under the waistband and glided over his thighs, down his knees, all the way around and down his calves until he met ankle. He worked his way back up, slowly standing up straight once again, letting his fingers slip over his torso, up to his chest and linger, only for a second, before his hands were raised into the air, wrists touching. He turned, then, only mere inches away from his legs touching Erwin’s knees. He swung his hips with the beat again, this time more pronounced, more dramatic, with a slight snap of his body after every swivel.

He cast one glance back to Erwin (the man’s eyes were trained right on his ass, right where they were supposed to be, and Armin felt himself grin) before reaching for the arms of the chair and sliding himself back.

The boy didn’t grind down just yet, just hovered right above Erwin, right above where he knew he’d find his erection straining those expensive dress pants. The closest he came was sliding down onto Erwin’s legs the next time he swung back down, but he lifted up before he could touch Erwin, give him the satisfaction. He watched the man’s fists clench beside him on the arms of the chair and he tutted, swinging up and away from Erwin.

“Hands to yourself for this,” he said, voice sultry and smooth, hips still swinging. He ran his hands up and down his torso again, imagined them as Erwin’s, and bit his lower lip as he eyed the man in front of him. He teased the edges of his tank top again, lifting the fabric just enough to give Erwin a glimpse of his abdomen, his pierced navel. “You want this off of me, don’t you?”

“Always.”

Armin smiled sweetly and hooked his fingers under the hem of the shirt properly. Slowly, though, while his hips snapped from side to side with the music, slowing when it did, he slid it off, inch by inch. When he finally pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor, Erwin’s eyes were dark, glazed, unfocused though they drank in Armin’s body. He could see his biceps clench underneath his suit jacket as he fought to stay still.

That was always the point when he knew he’d captured his prey. Erwin was wrapped around his finger. He could very well get away with murder at that moment, and he was confident Erwin would still crave him. That was always the goal.

He sunk down into a crouch again, but this time arched his back, grabbed ahold of the arms of the chair again, swung his torso in close to Erwin’s. Again, though, he glided just an inch or so away from Erwin’s body, followed the man’s eyes with his own until their gazes were interlocked. Erwin smirked and Armin’s heart did a few ridiculous, comical little flops inside of its cage, and he swung down to glide over him again a few more times. The last time, though, as he pulled away from Erwin, his hands grazed the man’s thighs and Armin was sure if Erwin didn’t have such incredible resolve for someone who had been drinking, for someone who was paying for his company, he might have broken.

Armin, truthfully, was closing to his own breaking point. He couldn’t go much longer without touching Erwin.

He turned again, used the arms of the chair to his advantage, and finally ground himself back against the older man. He was right, he realized with a gasp, as he felt Erwin’s hardness against his ass as he moved, even through his shorts. His own cock twitched under its own tight confinements every time he rolled his hips back down, grinding a little rougher with every swing of his hips. Erwin breathed out a growl from behind him, knuckles white from the force he put into gripping his own little section of the arm of the chair.

“Do you want me to take the shorts off, too?” Armin asked, teasingly, as he rolled his hips. Miraculously, despite his shortness of breath and obvious arousal, he still sounded calm, could still pull off the flawless flirt he’d practiced, the one that made him the most money. He didn’t need to use it with Erwin, and he knew that, but there was nothing wrong with pulling out all of the shots. “I have a little surprise under them for you.”

“Fuck, Armin—Yes.”

“Remember, no touching. Not yet.”

Armin pulled off of him after one last deliberate roll downward and Erwin groaned, tongue darting over his lips as he watched Armin turn to face him again.

Armin’s fingers plucked at the button of his shorts agonizingly slow even for him. He smiled almost slyly, felt more like a fine desert being appreciated and taken in, rather than a steak waiting to be devoured for once. He loved it, loved the hungry look in Erwin’s eyes as he finally got the button free, teasingly tugged the zipper down, tooth by tooth. As he shimmied his way out of the shorts, slowly but surely, his heart raced a little faster and breathing became a little harder. It was a little work, but he got the skin-tight article of clothing off, kicking it to the side, its position easily replaced by nylon and silky frilled black panties. His erection stood unabashedly, stretching the material considerably, the elastic band even lifted off of his skin.

Armin watched with plenty of satisfaction as Erwin’s lips parted into an innocent little ‘o’ to accent his surprise. He didn’t seem opposed, though, and if the song repeated over again, neither of them noticed.

“Like it?” Armin asked, swinging his hips with a little more force than he had been. He made sure to turn in a complete circle, each step timed with each loud beat that thrummed through his entire body. His body burned under Erwin’s gaze and the ceiling vent blew cold air onto Armin’s sweat-misted skin. “You said you wanted to see black on me, right?”

Armin didn’t let his patron answer.

He crawled into Erwin’s lap, instead, straddling him. He rested his hands on Erwin’s shoulders, hips rolling against Erwin’s for the friction they both so deserved. Erwin hissed and Armin hummed out a pleased little moan, eyes fighting to close on their own. He watched, though, carefully, as Erwin’s jaw clenched and felt as his body tensed.

Armin leaned over, just close enough, and whispered into Erwin’s ear, “You can touch me now.”

Large hands gripped his ass and forced him close, pulling his hips down against his own roughly. Armin gasped, his body jerking into Erwin’s, a low moan ripping from his chest. He whined as Erwin’s lips found his neck, tongue rolling over the already slick skin, teeth scraping against sensitive, soft skin, sucking lightly. He needed to pull away, stress over any potential marks on his skin, he knew he needed to, but he didn’t want to.  He wanted Erwin to mark him, to let all of his other patrons until the next time Erwin came or the marks faded (whichever came first) know that he belonged to someone. He wanted to be claimed.

But he couldn’t afford to be claimed now. He weakly pushed at Erwin’s shoulders, though he wiggled his ass back into the hands, the fingers that slipped under those pretty little black panties, to encourage everything else Erwin wanted.

“No marks,” he choked out. He chewed at his lower lip as Erwin stopped, only to lick a trail from the spot he’d focused on, up to his ear. “As much as I want you to, you can’t.”

“I understand,” Erwin said, voice gentle but ragged, rough and hoarse like he’d just woken up or he’d been smoking too many of those clove cigarettes (though, really, the former was only an assumption, and the latter was just knowledge from experience). A hand tangled into his hair and angles his head for a kiss, the other hand finally sliding entirely under Armin’s underwear to grope at his ass. “I get too carried away with you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Armin breathed the words out out, more of a laugh than a statement.

He shuddered every time Erwin’s fingers teased his skin or his blunt nails scraped at the cleft of his ass or a palm guided him down against Erwin’s erection again. He was struggling, more and more, to keep his composure.

And finally, Armin pulled off of Erwin with little protest, the man looking almost a little like a stubborn child who’d just had its favorite stuffed animal taken away from them. Armin smiled sweetly, though, and dropped to his knees on the rough carpet, and his fingers worked at Erwin’s belt, rather adept to its design.

“Don’t worry, just relax,” he whispered as he finally got the buckle undone. He laid the leather to the side, unbuttoning Erwin’s pants and humming appreciatively at the bulge in the older man’s briefs. He palmed over Erwin’s clothed cock, almost fighting to hide his excitement or a smile or something ridiculous like that. He didn’t do special things like this for any of his other customers, much less let them touch him. This was all for Erwin. “Let me take care of you. Just sit back and enjoy it.”

A hand wove its way back into his hair. “Maybe I’d enjoy it if you didn’t tease so much.”

Armin smirked, dragging the elastic band of the older man’s briefs down over his cock with his teeth and he let Erwin’s low growl rumble through his chest (even if it might have been the bass of the song playing over the speakers). He spit into the palm of his hand before wrapping his fingers around Erwin’s erection, pumping it slowly and languidly.

“There’d be no fun in this for me if I couldn’t tease you at least a little.”

“Evil,” Erwin whispered, a smile playing at his lips.

Armin narrowed his eyes at Erwin, smirk only widening as one hand stroked the older man’s cock and the other stroked his thigh. He leaned close to Erwin’s erection, close enough that his lips could touch the head if he wanted them to, but instead only said, “I’ll show you evil.”

Teasing was a challenge he took very seriously. He knew Erwin loved it, from the way his length twitched and his breath caught in his throat.  

He mouthed his way up from the base of Erwin’s cock to the tip, drinking in every small noise, every huff of breath from Erwin. Tentatively, he licked, not enough to give Erwin full satisfaction, but enough to set him on edge, to give him just a taste of what he could be having.

Armin watched the usually distinguished, stoic man slowly crumble, his walls deteriorating as Armin teased him with his tongue, massaged the underside of his erection, just below the head, with his thumb, licked small lines with no substantial pleasure. He left some of the work to his hand as he kissed the skin of Erwin’s lower abdomen and his hip after shoving his shirt out of the way.

Erwin was getting closer and closer to his limit, even from mere teasing.

Armin could tell from the way his chest shuddered with every breath and every inhale. He could tell by the way Erwin’s fingers would jerk in his hair, the way his thigh would twitch and the muscles would jump under Armin’s hand. He could tell by the way Erwin would breathily moan out Armin’s name when his tongue would work over a sensitive spot. After everything, though, Armin couldn’t blame him for being close. He was what felt like only a fraction of a second away from staining his new, pretty panties (that he doubted he’d ever wear for anyone but Erwin ever again, after tonight).

So, finally, Armin sucked Erwin’s cock into his mouth, only halfway at first, like always, only as much as he could take. He bobbed his head lightly, pulling back only to catch his breath or swirl his tongue around the head, before he slid back down, his fingers kneading Erwin’s thigh.

Bit by bit, he eased himself further down onto Erwin’s erection, pushing his own limits, drowning out everything and only concentrating on the feel of Erwin, the bitter taste of Erwin, just Erwin. He throbbed inside of his mouth, the soft little growling noises he made in the back of his throat in the place of pathetic little whimpers reflecting onto his body. And when Armin had his nose pressed into the soft, lightly trimmed curls at the base of Erwin’s cock, he rested there, taking all that was Erwin in.

Erwin shuffled his legs a bit, resituated himself when Armin pulled back, only the head of Erwin’s member left in his mouth. Armin didn’t argue, didn’t ask questions, didn’t stop or derive away from the task at hand. That is, not until he felt a leg pressing between his burning knees, between his shaking, straining thighs, and rubbing against the bulge in his panties. He cried out, leaning away from Erwin, his cock sliding out of his mouth with a slick and loud ‘pop’, breath coming out hot and heavy and loud. He heaved in air, body shaking from just the slightest touch, even the most off-handed feeling, but pleasure was pleasure and he felt it was well-deserved at this point.

Armin sucked at Erwin’s balls while his hand wrapped around his hardness once again. He moaned against Erwin, hips rolling to immodestly rut against the leg rubbing against him. He wanted to come so badly, wanted Erwin to come more importantly.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” Armin whispered, mouth working its way back up to the head of Erwin’s cock. He swirled his tongue around Erwin again and he shamelessly moaned, eyes peering up to catch lust-blown steely blue ones. He pulled back, only long enough to whisper, “Please.”

“Jesus, Armin,” Erwin whispered, and Armin closed his eyes the moment he felt that hand tangled in his hair push his head down, guide him down onto Erwin’s cock, and he took it for all it was worth, gave all that he could give. “I’m close.”

Neither paid attention to the music as it repeated once more, restarting almost fluidly.

Armin ground his hips against Erwin’s still-working leg. He took Erwin deep into his throat before pulling back, teeth grazing the underside lightly—not too much pressure, not too little.

He knew exactly how Erwin liked it when he was close. He pulled back, taking just enough in to fill his mouth, to rest heavy on his tongue and stretch his lips. His hand stroked what he could reach with his mouth, his nails dug into Erwin’s clothed thigh. He moaned around the length, hips jutting almost helplessly as he craved release of his own but refused to take any attention off of Erwin to focus on himself.

Erwin came with a not-so-gentle yank to Armin’s hair and a strangled moan of his name, spilling out into Armin’s mouth. Armin stroked and sucked him to softness, come still filling his mouth, when Erwin whispered, “Don’t swallow. Keep it in your mouth.”

Armin’s entire body shuddered at the gentle command and he nearly came then and there, but he forced his hips to still, forced himself away from Erwin’s length, and stared up at his patron, lips pressed together to hold in the bitter, warm liquid. As much as he’d learned to enjoy the taste of Erwin (compared to the first time he’d done this, when he’d gagged and spit it out onto the carpet, subsequently stuck scrubbing the stain out later that night when everyone else had gone home and gone to bed), it was uncomfortable, keeping it in his mouth, swishing it with his tongue to feel like it wasn’t just _there_. He whined a little, deep in his chest, arching his back and leaning closer to Erwin, when fingers gently took his chin and tilted his head back just slightly.

Erwin took Armin’s lips with his own, prying them open with little effort (even if Armin had been a little hesitant, a little too wary to spill). His tongue probed Armin’s mouth, and then he sucked.

Armin moaned, a little too loud and a little too eagerly, as Erwin sucked every last accessible drop of come from his mouth. Erwin groaned quietly, both hands cupping Armin’s face as he worked, and when he pulled back, Armin’s eyes were wide, his face burning, his entire body trembling. He forced his own hips to still, hyperaware of every feeling, every little nerve ending in his body, feeling like he’d been lit on fire by one simple action.

Erwin tilted his head back again, though, a thumb running over his lips before he silently urged the boy’s mouth opened. Armin was hesitant at first, until he realized the older man’s motives. He smirked and opened his mouth wide, even going so far as to stick his tongue out a little and wait eagerly.

He felt the come drip from Erwin’s mouth into his own and he moaned, watching the milky liquid roll off of the man’s tongue in stringy white drops. When it had all been returned to Armin’s mouth, Erwin released his head and leaned back, eyes still glazed, pupils still blown, and Armin wondered absently if he’d need to suck his favorite patron off one more time for the night.

“Swallow.”

Armin obeyed, doing what he was told, and finally swallowed audibly, forcing it all down in one go.

And then he smiled, almost mischievously, and stuck his tongue out one more time.

“Good boy,” Erwin murmured, smirking a sly little devilish smirk of his own, before he was rubbing his leg between Armin’s legs again. The boy gasped, bucking his hips into the friction, and he almost cried at the feeling, at how much he needed it. “Come for me, now.”

Gripping Erwin’s dress pants, he buried his face into the man’s lap and moaned, mewled, grinding against Erwin’s leg in a way that he felt like he should consider degrading, too embarrassing to _not_ be some dream-like fantasy. It didn’t feel like it was enough, though, until it finally was, and he was coming hard into his panties, his entire body shuddering and shaking, his voice hoarse and scratchy from practically screaming Erwin’s name.

As he sunk to the floor, sticky and sweaty and still burning hot, he silently thanked the sun that private rooms were sound-proof.

_+_

“You know, I’ve heard those are worse for you than regular cigarettes,” Armin murmured, leaning up against Erwin’s side as they sat together in the booth behind the round table. His soiled panties had been forgotten in the corner, instead replaced once again by his shorts, tank top slung haphazardly over the round table’s edge. Erwin still had another fifteen minutes paid for, and he had mentioned paying for an extra hour or two, even if he knew he could see Armin after hours. The man gave him a pointed look before taking a sarcastically long drag from his black-papered clove cigarette, and Armin took in the soft crackling. “Or just as bad. Either way, they’re not good for you, no matter how you look at them.”

“There are a lot of things that aren’t good for us that we enjoy,” Erwin countered, smiling pleasantly and holding out the cigarette to Armin. The boy gingerly accepted it. “That doesn’t stop us, does it?”

Armin stared at the cigarette for a moment before sighing softly and inhaling, himself, taking in the spices and the tobacco. When he passed it back over to Erwin, he finally returned the smile.

“I suppose not.”


End file.
